


Good Times

by lilsherlockian1975



Series: Journeys [9]
Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Canon Divergence, Crack, F/M, Fluff, Humor, Kidnapping, Romance, Sherlolly - Freeform, but it's for a good cause, everyone's ooc, mollock
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-17
Updated: 2015-12-17
Packaged: 2018-05-07 06:34:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,886
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5446733
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lilsherlockian1975/pseuds/lilsherlockian1975
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>All right... So what if Sherlock was like "NO! I'm not going on my death Mission!!" --- Here's my 'not tot be taken seriously' answer to that question. Just a bit of fun. I know it pretends that canon doesn't exist... Normally I try to stick with pretty closely to what the writers say... but let's just see what I ended up with, shall we?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Good Times

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, so this 'Journey' requires a little story because someone's going to say "Hey! You're cheating! Good Times is by Sam Cooke!" And they wouldn't be wrong. But it was covered by Journey in 1978. *Fun fact... it was also covered by The Grateful Dead. (and a thousand other artists) If you You Tube it, you get to see Bob Weir in super short shorts... if you're into that sort of thing... not that I am. (psst... I totally have a crush on mid-1990's Bob Weir... Don't judge!)*
> 
> Thanks to MizJoely for betaing this. But I take full credit for any mistakes.
> 
> I own nothing.

* * *

Molly quickly wrapped a robe around her freshly washed body and rushed to answer the demanding knocking on her door. Whoever it was had better have a good excuse for causing such a disturbance at nearly eleven o'clock at night. She knew it couldn't be Sherlock. First of all he had a key – he'd had one for years – secondly he hadn't been in contact with her for weeks and lastly she'd heard he was in some kind of trouble. Well, now that she thought about it...

She opened the door and was immediately caught in an embrace by the man himself.

"Oh, darling. Thank God," Sherlock said as he held her tightly.

"Sherlock, what the hell..?"

He cut her off by capturing her lips in a passionate kiss. A toe-curling, earth-shattering, fire-starting kiss. When it ended he moved his lips to her ear. "Just play along." Was all he said before turning back to the door to address the two black-suited goons, who she had only just noticed. "Thank you so much, Frick," He nodded first to one then the other. "Frack. But it's my understanding that I'm to spend my last night in England in my chosen location," Sherlock tilted his head toward Molly and winked. "I choose her," he said with an unrecognizable gleam in his eye.

Neither men seemed impressed, at all. 'Frick' raised his wrist to his mouth and spoke into it. "Package delivered to the Doctor." Then he touched an invisible earpiece and nodded to 'Frack'. "You have until six am Mr. Holmes. We'll be waiting." The agents stared forward, unmoving.

"Fun!" Sherlock said, then he shut the door and pulled a very confused Molly through her flat. They made it to the bedroom, which unfortunately shared a wall with the same hallway that currently housed the government agents they'd just left. Sherlock turned taking her by the shoulders. "Do you trust me, Molly? After everything I've done, all the mistakes... do you trust me?" he whispered.

Molly was suddenly terrified. He seemed manic, almost vulnerable, similar to the night he asked for her help in defeating Moriarty, but with more frenetic energy. "Oh my God, what's happening?"

He moved his hands to either side of her face. "Do you still believe in me Molly Hooper?"

Her answer came without hesitation. "Yes, of course I do, Sherlock."

Sherlock's face, his posture, suddenly relaxed. "You have no idea how much that means to me." He kissed her cheek. "Okay, now I need your mobile. Those bastards took mine."

Molly grabbed her phone from her nightstand and handed it to him. She sat down and watched as he paced and furiously, typed what appeared to be at least two dozen messages in the span of five minutes.

He seemed to be waiting on a reply when he paused and noticed her again. "Where's Tobias?" he asked looking around the room.

"Toby ran away while I was dating Tom. Hated that dog of his." She thought for a moment. "Or may he hated Tom..."

Sherlock sat down next her for the first time since they entered her room. "I'm so sorry, Molly, I... I should've..." He took a breath.

Molly chuckled. "Sherlock, you didn't know. It's been months. I miss him, but I'm fine."

He stood up again. "It just that I'm never... I don't..." Whatever he was going to say was interrupted by Molly's chiming mobile. "Yes!" he exclaimed as he read it.

"What is it?"

He typed as response and said, "Freedom."

"What?"

"Okay, we have about an hour to kill and I'm afraid that your thin walls aren't working for us in this situation," he said as he walked to the window, looked out into the alley below, then drew the curtain.

"Am I supposed to understand that, Sherlock? Or anything that's happening, for that matter?" Molly asked as she stood up.

He turned back to her, suddenly looking like he'd remembered something. "Of course, I haven't really explained. But now's not the time. We have to make love," he said with a smile and nod.

"What?" Molly shouted.

Sherlock planted his hands on his hips and looked thoughtful. "You know what, you're right. These aren't the right circumstances. We'll have to improvise."

Molly stared at him.

Sherlock rolled his eyes. "Pretend, Molly. My God you dated that Meat Dagger bloke, surely you're accustomed to faking it."

"Wh-Why... what... Why?" she finally managed. "Why do we have to..."

"Because I'm here to spend my last night of freedom with the woman I love," he explained as if she were an idiot.

Molly felt her skin flush hot and tears sting in her eyes before she could properly start processing what he'd said. _His freedom? What had he done?_ _Oh, Sherlock!_ her mind screamed. Then everything else rushed in. _Again?_ He was using her again. She was just a quick pit-stop to freedom. He was arranging some sort of escape from... whatever he'd done- whatever consequence he was facing. Her heart, which she really thought had finally come to terms with the maddening genius, splintered and cracked. Then suddenly she was flat on her back, Sherlock pressing her into the mattress, peppering kisses to her wet cheeks.

"No, no, no, Molly. I'm so sorry. You're wrong. You've got it all wrong. I'm not using you, I promise. I'm kidnapping you. Please stop crying. Please, please. Sh, sh, shhhhh." More kisses on her eyes, her nose, her chin.

Again, her mind tried to keep up with his words, and now his actions. _What?_ "You're what? You're kidnapping me?"

Sherlock was kissing her neck, not really paying attention to her words as he had managed to widen the gap on the top of her dressing gown. "Hmmm?" he hummed against her skin.

Molly was torn. His lips were incredibly distracting, but what on earth was he talking about? "Um, Sh-Sherlock, did you just say you're kidnapping me?" she finally managed.

He raised up, reluctantly, closing her dressing gown just before things got _immodest_. After one last look at her now-covered chest, he moved to lay beside her, propping up on his elbow. "Yes," he said in a hushed tone. He kept his arm around her waist, holding her close. "Don't worry, if everything goes to plan, it will be _most_ pleasant." The gleam in his eyes was downright devilish.

"Where are we going?"

He smirked and bent down taking her earlobe in his teeth for a moment before releasing it. "You've clearly never been abducted before, Miss Hooper. That's not how this works."

Molly giggled.

* * *

An hour later Molly found herself being ushered into the back of a limousine in the alley behind her building. The trip down the fire escape was less harrowing than she'd expected, though at the bottom she'd had to jump into Sherlock's arms because the ladder was stuck. She was relatively unharmed, and now sitting across from them most beautiful woman she'd ever seen in her life.

"Nice catch Mr. Holmes. I have to admit, when I received your text message to 'away' yourself and a companion, I assumed it was your other doctor friend. But this one is much lovelier. Though this does explain the need for lingerie. John doesn't seem the type." The woman leaned in and offered Molly her hand. "Irene Adler, at your service."

Molly took it, a bit mesmerized. "Molly Hooper."

"A pleasure to meet you." Miss Adler brought Molly's hand up and kissed the back of it, leaving a bright red stain on her skin.

Molly giggled.

Sherlock grabbed Molly's hand away from The Woman. "All right, you've had your fun." He pulled Molly into his side. "Is everything taken care of?"

Irene finally took her eyes off of Molly. "Everything's in place."

"What happened to the agent that was stationed in the alley?" he asked.

"I found out what he liked," she answered.

Sherlock rolled his eyes. "You drugged him and stuffed him in your trunk."

"You know me so well, Mr. Holmes." She studied him for a moment. "You should try to calm down."

He clung a bit tighter to the woman in his arms. "Who says I'm not calm?"

"Well you're currently trying to squeeze the life out of our friend here. I can only assume you feel threatened by me. Rightfully so." She winked at Molly, causing her to blush.

"Woman..." Sherlock warned.

"I've gone to a lot of trouble for you two. Can't I enjoy myself?"

"Not at Molly's expense."

"She's not complaining."

Molly turned to Sherlock and whispered, "You are crushing me... a bit."

Irene laughed as Sherlock loosened his grip on the pathologist.

"Sherlock," Molly said. "Where are we going?"

"Sorry, I can't tell you." He looked at Irene. "Her first kidnapping." He shook his head.

Irene leaned in. "You know, you could come with me instead. He's such a bore. All that science, and deduction. Surely you'll tire of it, eventually."

Molly looked up at Sherlock. She was still completely overwhelmed by the events of the past two hours. He'd only explained bits and pieces of what was going on. He'd done something unforgivable, at least in the eyes of the British government, but he told her he'd done it for the right reasons and that he was tired of _the game_. He told her that he wanted a fresh start, and that that fresh start included her. It was really no question at all, not that she was considering taking Miss Adler up on her offer (although she really was lovely). But she found herself ready to give up everything for the beautiful genius who was holding her so tightly she felt like she might burst.

"I won't tire of it, Miss Adler," Molly said looking at Sherlock. "I'm quite certain a lifetime with Sherlock wouldn't be enough."

Suddenly Sherlock's lips descended upon hers. He kissed her passionately, apparently unconcerned that they had an audience. The kiss continued until Molly heard Miss Adler groan.

"Okay, I've seen enough. You two will cause my teeth to rot." She knocked on the glass partition.

Molly and Sherlock broke out of their kiss. "Sorry to upset your delicate sensibilities. I know how these things..." Sherlock started.

"Save it!" Irene interrupted. "The house is fully stocked. Plenty of food, clothes and untraceable electronics." She reached into her bag. "Here are your identities to get out of this country and into the next." Then she held out her hand to Sherlock and raised an eyebrow when he put nothing in it. "Molly's phone, you hormonal idiot!"

Sherlock jumped a bit then quickly retrieved the device.

She watched him for a moment. "I don't believe I've ever seen a man in more desperate need of a good shag in all my life." She turned to Molly. "Don't get your hopes up for the first time, love. Or tease him, make a game of it." She turned back to Sherlock. "I know I would."

Suddenly the car stopped and Irene gathered her things. "Well, my work here is done. You two enjoy your new life." She started to get out, then paused and mumbled _fuck it_ under her breath as she turned back to Molly. "Just one?" she said as she took her face in her hands and laid a soft, sensual kiss on her lips. She studied her for a moment. "Such a shame." Then she was gone.

"What a strange woman," Molly said, getting her bearings.

"You have no idea," Sherlock said as he pulled her closer once again.

* * *

_**Six Months Later... Somewhere Far, Far Away...** _

Molly kissed Sherlock on the top of his head as he sat at the table, by the pool. "Still reading about that magic detective?" she asked, picking up his empty coffee cup.

"My job would be infinitely more interesting if I could wield magic, don't you think?"

Molly giggled. "You want a refill, I assume?"

He'd already gone back to his book. "Please."

Molly went back inside the house.

Sherlock was fairly engrossed in his book, so much so, that he almost missed the heavy foot falls of the British government as he approached. "Morning Mycroft," he said, not looking up.

His brother stood for a moment, waiting for Sherlock's full attention. When he didn't get it, he pulled out a chair and sat down. "Dear God, what are you reading?"

"Fiction," Sherlock said as he finally put the book down and looked at Mycroft. What a picture the pair must have painted. Mycroft in his three piece suit, not even a button loosened. He, of course, had his ever faithful brolly with him. Sherlock, on the other hand was wearing a pair of blue and orange Bermuda shorts... and nothing else. "What can I do for you, brother dear?"

Mycroft rolled his eyes. "Come home. Why else would I come to this God-forsaken, overly sunny, tourist trap?"

"Ummm... no."

The older man sighed. "Sherlock, I've been patient. I took care of things. I paid people - a LOT of people, to make it seem like you went on that mission." Sherlock was looking out across the majestic blue water. "I'm not even angry anymore. I understand not wanting to be sent off to your death. As unpatriotic as it was..." he grumbled under his breath.

Still not looking at his brother Sherlock said, "I suppose you want a thank you?"

"Heaven's no."

"Good."

"But the mission's over. Come back to London. What could possibly be keeping you here?" Mycroft asked.

Sherlock turned back to his brother. "Good times, Myke," he said with an oddly serene smile on his face.

"I'm sorry?"

"I'm rather enjoying myself. I don't really want to leave."

"When are you going to grow up, Sherlock?"

Several minutes passed. The tension was palpable.

Sherlock adjusted himself; his posture becoming more relaxed causing Mycroft even more distress. "I had no real plan when I went to Molly's flat that night other than to find a way out of the mess I'd gotten myself in. She'd helped before, of course. She's always been there for me... always. As I was awaiting my fate, at first I had decided to accept my punishment. I'd killed a man, I deserved whatever my country decided to do with me. But the more I thought about it, the more pissed off I got." He tensed up and leaned in. "I've killed before, Mycroft. Many times. For you. For our country. And everyone wanted that man dead!" He sat back once again. "I did you all a favor. I wasn't going down for that."

"I had a contingency plan, Sherlock."

"I'm sure you did. But, as it turns out, it wasn't necessary."

"You kidnapped your pathologist!" Mycroft snapped.

"Semantics."

Taking a deep breath, the older man said, "Fine. Have you thought about your friends?"

"The Watsons had a lovely holiday here just over a month ago. They seem to be doing quite well." Sherlock observed his brother's face. He was actually shocked. _Oh, they fooled him... somehow._ "You're slipping."

"You must be bored."

"Not really. I've been helping out here and there. Not much crime, but enough. And I've been studying the local plant and animal life."

"Mummy!" He huffed. "She's furious, you know. You've disappeared once again. She may not forgive you this time!"

Sherlock looked at his brother, carefully. "Why don't you just say you're lonely, Mycroft. There's no shame in it."

"I'm not... lonely. But Mummy..."

"Trust me when I say she'll forgive me," Sherlock said, confidence oozing out of every word.

"Not this time, she's..." Mycroft started, but was halted when he heard the door of the house open.

"Oh, Mycroft!" Molly called out. "I didn't know you were here!"

Sherlock watched as it all fell into place for his brother. Then he turned to look at Molly, dressed in a light strappy thing that barely covered her expanding belly. He knew, of course that she was wearing a bathing suit underneath, but the sheer astonishment on Mycroft's face was quite priceless. Five months pregnant, lovely tan covering her normally pale skin; she was indeed glowing.

Molly sat Sherlock's coffee in front of him, walked over to Mycroft, kissed his cheek then sat down on Sherlock's knee. "How long will you be staying?" she asked.

"Ahh, I-I'm afraid I can't stay. Must be returning soon, Miss Hooper." He smiled, though it was slightly forced.

"Dr. Holmes," Sherlock corrected.

Mycroft blinked. "I'm sorry... Of course." He took yet another deep breath and thought for a moment. "The Watson's holiday."

"Finally caught up," Sherlock said before taking a drink of coffee.

They sat in uncomfortable silence for several moments. Mycroft stood up. "I really must be returning. London needs at least one Holmes to keep things running smoothly."

Molly and Sherlock both stood as well. Molly hugged Mycroft. Sherlock watched as his brother's eyes widened in shock. _This day just keeps getting better._

The embrace ended and Mycroft straightened his waistcoat. "You will come home before the birth, won't you? Surely you don't want your child born," He looked around the beautiful scenery with disdain. "Here."

Sherlock looped his arm around Molly's waist. "Oh, I don't know, Mycroft. This seems as good a place as any. After all, Tahiti is a magical place." He winked.

* * *

 

**Author's Note:**

> Some people will get my reference there at the end...hehehe. And the book that Sherlock was reading: The Dresden Files by Jim Butcher. Great series! A magic detective! FUN!
> 
> Please let me know if you liked this little bit of cracky fun. And if I don't post anything before Christmas. Happy holidays to you all! Much love... Lil


End file.
